


University Party

by janto321 (FaceofMer)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Developing Relationship, First Kiss, M/M, Party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:27:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24918343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321
Summary: Mycroft accepts an anonymous invitation to a party
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Comments: 14
Kudos: 113





	University Party

Mycroft looked dubiously up at the house, already hearing music coming from inside the walls. Surely it had been a mistake that he'd been invited at all, but he supposed he may as well come. The invitation itself had been anonymous, which made him even warier, but, perhaps a university student needed to attend at least one such event.

He mounted the stairs and walked in, finding the place crowded, many of the students already well into their cups. He carefully wove his way through the crowd, finding his way to the kitchen.

Just as he stepped into the room, he bumped into someone, making them drop their beverage.

"I'm so sorry," he said, crouching down to pick it up.

"Mycroft! You made it!" Mycroft blinked and realized the person he'd bumped into was Greg Lestrade. They shared a math class, but he wasn't sure if Greg had ever spoken to him before this moment. Of course, he'd noticed the handsome student three seats to the left, but he had no idea Greg even knew he existed.

"Don't worry about the cup," said Greg, dropping a towel on the floor to mop up the spill with his foot. "Did you have a drink yet?"

"I only just arrived," said Mycroft.

Greg grinned at him, in a way that made Mycroft's stomach do a flip. Surely a smile that warm was dangerous. "Well let’s get you a drink and me a new one," he said, taking Mycroft's hand and towing him deeper into the kitchen.

Mycroft was hardly in any sort of position to argue, his brain still grappling with Greg's smile and he knew his name, and oh God, he was holding his hand.

They reached a punch bowl and Greg got them both fresh cups, putting one into Mycroft's hand. The music was louder here and Greg leaned into his ear. "I was worried you wouldn't come."

"You were the invite?" asked Mycroft. "You didn't sign it."

Greg sipped his drink and shuffled his feet. "I guess I was hoping curiosity would get the better of you."

"It appears to have worked," admitted Mycroft, taking a long swig of his own punch, feeling it burn.

Greg leaned into his ear again. "Good," he said, his warm breath making Mycroft shiver. Surely Greg couldn't be interested like that, could he?

Mycroft hastily drank the rest of his punch. Greg bopped his head to the music, waiting for Mycroft to finish before taking his hand again and pulling him out to where people were dancing.

If one were to ask Mycroft if he ever danced, he would vehemently deny it, no matter what he might get up to in the privacy of his room. But suddenly, here, with Greg, lost in the crowd, it didn't matter.

Greg smiled as Mycroft moved to the music, keeping himself close, finishing his own drink, and putting it aside.

Perhaps emboldened by the drink, Mycroft put his hand on Greg's hip and pulled him a little closer. Greg happily followed his lead, draping his arms around Mycroft's neck.

Mycroft was certain that if the world picked this moment to end, he would be satisfied.

They danced a little longer before Mycroft leaned in to Greg's ear. He was getting warm, and it wasn't entirely the crowd or the drink. "Perhaps some fresh air?" he asked.

Greg nodded and stepped out of his embrace, taking Mycroft's hand again and leading him past the band and out into the garden.

Scrubbing a hand through his hair, Greg turned to face Mycroft again. "Well, now we don't have to shout," he said. "Thank you for coming."

"Thank you for inviting me. I don't..... usually do parties. But perhaps if you're there, it wouldn't be so bad."

Greg smiled warmly at him and pulled him a little closer. "I know we really haven't talked, but you're brilliant and handsome and I'd like to get to know you better."

"I'm not sure about handsome, but I believe I'd like to get to know you, too."

"And I'd like to show you how handsome you are." Greg brushed his hair back.

Mycroft bit his lip as Greg moved a little closer. He closed his eyes as he realized Greg was going in for a kiss. Greg's lips were soft and the kiss carefully gentle and chaste. He opened his eyes as Greg pulled back again. 

"Come on, let's sit," said Greg, leading him over to a bench.

Mycroft kept Greg's hand as they fell into easy conversation. It felt like he'd known Greg forever and he found himself opening up in a way that he almost never did with anybody. 

And Greg actually listened and responded. Greg held his hand as they talked, leaning in to be sure he was hearing him. It almost felt better than the kiss. He was seen, and, it seemed, Greg was enjoying his company, speaking about himself in return.

At some point, Greg squeezed his hand. "I'm thirsty. I'll go get us drinks. Wait here."

Mycroft nodded and sat back, watching him slip into the house. He ran a hand through his hair and looked up at the stars.

"Who invited Mycroft?" sneered a voice nearby.

Mycroft looked over and saw a couple of boys that were in one of his other classes. He ignored them and looked away.

"Probably invited himself. Who would want him around anyway?" sneered the man's friend.

Mycroft was rather used to people being assholes around him, but even as he did his best to ignore them, he could still hear them talking.

"Oi, what are you two on about?" asked Greg, reappearing in the garden with two glasses.

"Nothing that matters to you," said the first one.

Greg walked over and put down the two cups before turning to face the pair. Mycroft wanted to tell him he didn't need to bother, but clearly he wasn't going to listen. "I invited Mycroft and he's got just as much right to be here as you two."

"You probably just want to get into his pants."

"What does it matter to you?" Greg balanced on his feet, clearly ready for a fight.

"Couple of poofs like you belong together," said one, nudging his companion and turning to walk away.

Maybe it was the alcohol that made him bold, but Mycroft spoke up. "You two should just kiss each other." 

He turned and took a menacing step towards Mycroft. "What did you say?"

Greg smoothly stepped between the two of them. "Just go home, James," he said.

James glared at the two of them, clearly weighing his options. He made a rude gesture and turned on his heel, his friend trailing in his wake.

Greg blew out a breath and walked back over to Mycroft, taking a seat. Mycroft took a long drink before speaking. "Thank you."

"For what?" asked Greg.

"For speaking up. For being willing to fight them if it had come to that."

Greg covered Mycroft's hand with his own. "Just because nobody stands up for you doesn't mean you aren't worthy of it. I know you usually keep to yourself, but I'm glad you came here and I'm glad we've got to talk."

Mycroft looked at their hands together and turned his palm over to hold Greg's hand. "I hold myself apart because opening myself up is unsafe. Rarely does anyone truly wish to know me. Use me, sure, mock me, certainly, but not know me." He looked up and met Greg's eyes. "You're different."

Greg smiled and leaned in to kiss him again, keeping it gentle. "You're an amazing person and anyone who thinks otherwise is a fool or jealous."

"Thank you," said Mycroft.

Greg leaned back and sipped his drink. "Do you want to stay here?" he asked.

Mycroft shrugged. "I live close by. We could walk."

Greg smiled. "Alright," he said.

Mycroft finished his drink and got to his feet, pitching his cup on the way out, taking a breath of fresh air as they moved away from the party. Greg walked close by his side, not quite holding his hand as they moved down the darkened sidewalk. It felt right, Mycroft realized, just having Greg this close. 

They reached the block of flats where Mycroft lived. He led Greg upstairs and unlocked the door. He frowned as he stepped inside, realizing he wasn't alone. Well, what else could be going wrong tonight?

Putting his fingers to his lips and gesturing for Greg to stay put, he moved further into the flat, quietly opening the bedroom door. Sherlock was curled up in his bed looking small. The bedroom window was still partially open.

Mycroft sighed and closed the window, going back out and closing the door behind him. He turned on a light and scrubbed a hand through his hair. "It seems my brother has decided to spend the night here."

Greg smiled and pulled him close. "It's fine. Do you want me to go?"

Mycroft leaned in and kissed him gently. "If you'd like to stay for a little bit, it should be fine."

Greg nodded and sat on the sofa. "Sounds like I need to take you on a proper date."

Mycroft got up to fix them each a drink, bringing it back and perching next to Greg on the sofa. "I would like that."

"I'll take you somewhere we can be alone," said Greg."

Mycroft smiled at him. "I would like that, but perhaps we can start with something like a museum, first?"

"Of course." Greg picked up Mycroft's hand and kissed it. "I want to get to know you better. I'd like to be friends, at least to start."

"I think we can accomplish that," said Mycroft, watching him.

Greg let go of his hand and sat back sipping his drink. They fell into another conversation, until Mycroft, yawning, noticed the time. "Oh dear, it's very late."

Blinking, Greg looked at the clock. "Or early." He put his glass down and stood. Mycroft copied the motion. "We can go to the museum after class on Tuesday?"

"Excellent," said Mycroft, walking him to the door.

Greg leaned in and took one more gentle kiss. "See you Tuesday, then."

"Never have I looked forward so much to a class," Mycroft smiled warmly at him.

Greg nodded and stepped out into the cool night air. Mycroft closed the door after him and picked up the glasses, taking them to the sink.

"Do you have a boyfriend?" asked Sherlock, tone somewhere between a sneer and curiosity.

"Maybe," said Mycroft. "Are you safe?"

Sherlock nodded. "I had a fight with Mum and Dad."

"They'll know you're here, then," said Mycroft.

Sherlock shrugged. "They won't come after me."

"True," said Mycroft. "Well, if you want to sleep in my bed, that's fine. I need to get some sleep."

"I'll stay out on the sofa," said Sherlock, getting himself a glass of water and settle in front of the telly.

Mycroft watched him a moment, then headed off to his bedroom. If Sherlock was here, that meant he hadn't been using, most likely. He'd probably be gone whenever Mycroft woke up. And Mycroft would need to get him a key, again.

Quietly, Mycroft undressed and got into bed, settling under the still warm blankets. As he closed his eyes, he could still taste the remnants of Greg's kiss. The future was wide open, and he looked forward to it with curiosity and hope.


End file.
